


Something to get off my chest

by Splatx



Series: BSDM AU [2]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Belgian Malinois, F/M, Pet!Play AU, Shapeshifting, implied future relationship, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:08:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29998440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Splatx/pseuds/Splatx
Summary: But until he saw her twist and change, sprout fur and ears and some sort of tail, then even if she tried to tell him that she was a Pup or a Kitten, then he’d never know for sure.But damned, if he didn’t think she was a Pup.
Relationships: Flaco Hernández/Original Female Character(s)
Series: BSDM AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206710
Kudos: 1





	Something to get off my chest

It hadn’t taken long for Flaco to realize what Evan was.

Well, he’d never been quite sure.

But when she came back exhausted, dragging her feet—

—or hurt—

—or got all soft as she listened to his stories, slumping over and going hazy at his feet—

well, he was fairly sure. But until he saw her twist and change, sprout fur and ears and some sort of tail, then even if she tried to tell him that she was a Pup or a Kitten, then he’d never know for sure.

But damned, if he didn’t think she was a Pup.

She hid it well, admittedly. Didn’t bounce around or nuzzle up, didn’t perk up when she saw him eat or stare (too much, at least) at the wood chunks in his hands that would make a _wonderful_ fetch toy. If she hadn’t curled up on her side in a way that was just _so Pup_ when she’d fallen asleep during one of his stories, he might have thought he was mistaken.

  
  


And then, after he sent her out on a particularly hard job - to kill a hoard of bounty hunters that had taken up residence in Colter and he’d worried for the safety of himself and his Gang, and it had been a bloodied, limping tan dog that had returned, sticking a blood soaked face inside, carrying the head of one of the hunters and dropping it at his feet well,

he’d been _pretty damn sure._

He’d tried his best not to stare - failed a bit, admittedly - as he laughed, picking up the head and tossing it outside for the wolves before throwing her payment at her absolutely _massive_ grizzled paws, returning to his carving as she plopped down on her ass in front of the fireplace and began to lick herself clean, whining when she ran her tongue over her inner foreleg and underbelly. With a sneeze, she determined herself clean as he found himself with the ears of a dog carved into the wood, and curled up in front of the fire, seeming unbothered that she hadn’t managed to get the blood off her face.

She was gone before he woke up, pawprints in the dust and snow on the floor of his cabin muddling and turning into footprints that led outside.

  
  


A week or so later, she returned, acting as though nothing changed. And so he did the same, giving her work, sending her down to kill some O’Driscolls that were budging in on his territory. She nodded, and then he could only watch as, easy as that, her bones began to stretch, her back began to arch, her face to stretch out as her black hair crawled across her skin, turning tawny and staying dark in turn.

And then, as though she hadn’t revealed a deep secret to him, she shook off her shed clothes and trotted to the door, nudged it open with her black muzzle, and vanished outside.


End file.
